


The Friendly Neighbourhood Ghost

by Redcheese



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man/Deadpool - Joe Kelly (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-04-21 13:38:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14286099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redcheese/pseuds/Redcheese
Summary: Deadpool is feeling worse then ever. He wants to visit Mistress Death, permanently. And he's found a way to do it, a Chitauri hand cannon on display at the museum of natural history. He plans to steal it. But when he breaks into the museum he never expected it to be haunted. This 'ghost' seems to have real fun teasing him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Voices:  
> Yellow {}  
> Whitey []
> 
> This idea is inspired by a Spidey comic where Spidey has great fun scaring the boots off of Jigsaw by chasing him in the dark.
> 
> I've gotta apologise, none of the fun stuff happens in this chapter and there is a big tone shift. That's because frankly, I have no idea what I'm doing.
> 
> Also, I don't oft look on here or reply to comments so I may not get back to you. But thank you very much if you like this.

Wade sat with his head bowed, hands tightly clasping his folded knees, back against the peeling wall of his apartment. Eyes red and swollen, nose streaming with mucus and blood. If there was a way to describe the way he felt it would be a mass of black twisted worms, blind, wriggling, pissing and spitting on one another, vomiting bile and drowning in it. Creating a disgusting stench, a stench as vile as the one of an organism that was so alive and in the next moment dead. There were so many thoughts running through his head. The voices sneered and chatted on and on, they reminded him of all the wrong he had done, what he deserved.

[Remember Carmelita? She’s dead, because of _you_.]

{At least Ellie is safe. Far away from you.}

[Remember Vanessa? She’s dead too, because of you. She loved you sooo deeply, but you never loved her, oh no you were too busy asking her to morph into Siryn.]

{Oh, oh! Remember how we tortured Al, that poor lady that cared for us like a mother?}

{All your friends, your lovers, are in pain because of you. They all hate you. They left us because of you.}

[And maybe you remember… your parents? What you did to them?]

{You killed them _too_!}

Deadpool stared blankly at the gun in his hands. He raised it to his head. The barrel bumped the side of his skull and his hand shook. He screwed together his eyes tightly. And pulled the trigger.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

New York City. The evening sky was a dull orange, the tall grey buildings of the city seemed like cut-outs against its brighter colour and cast long black shadows across the sidewalk. The smog from the polluted city clouded below these buildings and made the air thick. One building stood out against the rest; the Museum of Natural History. It’s white stone pillars shone against the greys, and lights from the floor cast rays along its walls. On a bench at its entrance sat a lone man wearing black, his face covered by a large broadsheet newspaper (the daily bugle). The smog seemed to concentrate particularly thickly in his vicinity.

He started to cough violently, lowering the newspaper to obscure the harsh noise, “coff, coff, coff. Ah, fuck.”. His head was bald and what could be seen of his face was torn and mottled, passer-bys stared at him in sympathy or pushed forward in fright. He looked up at them briefly, his eyes a luminescent yellow with blue irises. Despite their monstrous quality, they seemed to be his softest part. Feeling uncomfortable, he turned them down and hid his face into the newspaper once more. Behind the newspaper he was far more confident, when no one could see the face that he perceived as ugly. And the same applied to when he was wearing a mask.

This man was, of course, Deadpool, Wade Wilson. The merc with the mouth. The infamous mercenary who ran his tongue all day and annoyed folk for a living. Although currently he was not quite so zealous. He shrank further into the popped collar of the long trench coat he was wearing.

The sun crept down into the horizon until the sky had turned blue and night fell. Wade still sat on the bench with a newspaper covering his face. Surely, he could not make out a single word on the pages in the dark, but that wasn’t his intention. As the museum’s closing hour dawned, its visitors walked away down the sidewalk as a security guard at the top of the steps ushered them away. The doors of the museum were locked, and the employees started to make their way home too.

“Well hello there, reader. Why am I wasting my time reading a newspaper, and one that is as mind-numbingly trashy as the Daily Bullshit you ask? I’ll cut to the chase; I’m waiting...” Deadpool spoke to himself.

“Man, the Daily Bugle has really gone down the drain. It used to be pictures of Spidey but now it’s just these dolled up movie celebs. Who the fuck even is ‘Ryan Reynolds’?”

He turned the page aggressively.

“Ooo. This is better! Her dress is nice... I think that colour would complement my mottled complexion. How much is- $900??? Hell no! Get outta here with that.”

[Oh. So, you paid $3 to look at ads? Which most people pay $3 to get rid of. Or did you buy that thing to hide your fuck-ugly face?]

{Wowza.}

[You know they’re all scared of you. Look at these people running away. You should’ve just worn the mask. Or used the image inducer. But they’ll recognise you either way. You know why?]

{Well he’s pretty famous I guess.}

“… Shut up! I’m trying to read. And I can’t use the image inducer, my mind is all over the place, the disguises would fluctuate.”

[ _Your_ mind is fluctuating? What about all those people you shot in the head?

Face it, dummy, you’re ugly inside and out. All round. There’s no one who exists that is even close to being as monstrously ugly as you. He’s not ‘pretty’ famous, Yellow, he’s ugly famous. Famous for doing and being ugly.]

{Haha, ‘doing ugly’.}

“Yeah, yeah. And that’s why I’m here. Why don’t you two skip off and make auditory love or something. I’ve got work to do.” His face hardened as he set down the newspaper and pulled on his mask, grimacing. “Why did the chicken cross the road-?“

The security guard started towards him. “Hey, what are you still doing here? It’s closing hour pal. You’ve gotta go.”

“Finally, a real person! And not a disembodied voice! I can't go right now, Skippy. I’m waiting ‘till the toilets flush. But come hop forwards and make me if you want. You'll have to squeeze my bladder a lil-- or use a taser. That works too.” Deadpool taunted, his dissonant voice wavering.

The security guard scowled and stalked towards Wade who stepped backwards playfully as though they were both dancing a foxtrot.  Suddenly Wade stopped. He stood still on the pavement under the sharp orange light of a streetlamp.

The security guard looked at his mask in sudden fearful recognition. “You’re-“

Deadpool’s elbow cracked around the side of his face and knocked him out cold. He caught the guard masterfully before he hit the floor, then after looking around trice for witnesses he dragged the limp body aside and lifted it into the planters. There it could not immediately be seen. He shucked off his overcoat and used it as a blanket to cover the guard. This would both prevent him from freezing and from being seen.

“Sorry, you would’ve spoiled my party.”

Deadpool rummaged around in the man’s pockets and lifted a key, a torch, and a pistol. He discarded them into his red backpack. Then looked towards the security cameras located around the museum’s roof.

“One. Two. Three” He counted, pulling a gun from a holster on his thigh. And loading the same number of rounds into its chamber.

He checked the silencer and looked around again. Sneaking forwards to a better angle he crouched out of sight and pointed towards the first camera. Holding the scope up to his eye he took a shot. The camera exploded.

“One piggy.”

He edged around to the other side of the building and took his next shot.

“Two piggies.”

“Woah! Did you hear that loud noise? I think it came from over there.” Citizens on the other side of the street stopped and looked towards the museum.

“Fucknuggets.” Deadpool swore under his breath. “Two is good enough.” He watched the onlookers from the shadows of the planters. His yellow eyes glowing in the dark.

“Dunno, maybe it was nothing.” The young citizen shrugged to his companion and moved on cautiously.

Deadpool removed another smaller gun from his other holster.

He pointed it to the roof and shot. Shhhrrrk. A grappling hook fired out and caught the ledge. He released the trigger and hoisted himself up, making a quick scramble over the rooftop edge and running further into the shadows out of sight.

He doubled over and started to laugh feverishly “Bahahaha” before catching himself. “Work.” He stiffened, his demeanour quickly sobering. He reached into his backpack taking out the torch he had retrieved from the security guard earlier. Switching it on and making his way along the roof.

“White? White’s such a boring colour, why not a red torch, a blue torch. A morally ambiguous torch. But no, it’s always white.”

[Because you can see more with a white one. Obviously.]

“It’s still lame though. Imagine how boring it would be if DC had ‘white lanterns’.”

[They do.]

“Really? Uh- well damn… I should read more comics.”

Suddenly, he stops. “There they are, we found the whales!” He shouts, clapping and jumping excitedly. His torch shudders down at a blue panelled skylight, glinting in the moonlight.

“Now it’s time to do a little something the incredible Hulk taught me…”

“SMASH!” He pivots and punches the glass enthusiastically. But his bloodied fist only bounces off with a resounding ‘BRRNNGG’. He cries out loudly in pain as he falls back onto the floor with a thud.

“Fuuuuaaaohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, noooo-ahh! Holy ass! Painnnnn!” He clutches his arm in pain rolling over.

[Idiot.]

{Agreed.}

He moves his fist around a few times, the knuckles and fingers are bent and swollen. After a few moments his fists start to heal. He shakes and pops them carelessly.

“What is this bulletproof glass? Plexiglass? Duralex?”

{Shoot it.}

[No.]

“I like the way you think.”

[NO. IT'S TOO LOUD!]

Deadpool stands up, brushing the dust off his legs. He pulls out his pistol and shoots the gun at the glass. Simultaneously jumping away and rolling for cover, protecting himself with his own limbs.

Seemingly nothing happens.

He removes his arm from his face and crawls towards the glass. It is heavily cracked with the bullet still stuck inside the glass.

Deadpool pushes on the bullet with his index finger, the cracked glass around it falls through and down into the museum.

“Ah hah!” He exclaims, poking his head above the skylight and looking down. “The finger always works.”

He turned around taking the bag off his pack and chucking it onto the floor. Unzipping the cover, he looks at the sky as he feels his way through the bag. Wade pulls out a large pair of green night vision goggles and secures them around his mask, ensuring to make as much noise as possible when letting go of the strap. He looks comical with the overly large goggles over his mask.

“Sorry Pool-boy. My goggles are just way cooler. And so am I. I have my own comic. Where is your comic, huh?” He mumbles.

He starts to rummage around in the bag again. Finally, after a minute he finds what he was looking for and pulls out a long rope.

“Ah, rope...”

[Stop, that insinuation is too dark, even for you. It's getting censored.]

{Eh? Isn't he talking about bondage?}

“There are two types of people in this world. Whitey, and Yellow.”

Deadpool tied one end of the rope around his waist, finishing it with a bow, and the other end around a large air vent.

He ran towards the destroyed skylight and jumped through it. Landing heavily onto a large plastic whale display hanging from the ceiling. It rocked dangerously as he slid down its back and latched onto the tail flippers.

“Sorry Willy, or Moby Dick, or eh-- have you ever noticed that all the famous fictional whales have phallic names. What’s that all about?”

He peered down into the dark museum, clutching at his torch.

There were flashing red lights on the walls. Infra-red burglar alarms. If he cut off their light signals by stepping through them then the alarms would sound.

Deadpool paced carefully along the back of the whale. Observing where each signal was. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from a pocket in his belt. Then he put one hand down his pants.

{Dude, wtf??? I don’t think this is the time.}

He pulls out a red crayon.

{Why.}

“So that no one asks to borrow it, silly. Then I’ll never get it back.” He draws a large rectangle and crudely marks the location of each alarm inside it.

“Okay, so we need to get into the door to the left. The paid exhibition room.”

Deadpool edges towards the side of the whale and slides off. The rope catches him mid-air before he hits the floor. He unties it and drops down.

The museum is dark, except for the one stream of light shining through the broken skylight into the centre of the hall.

 


	2. A Ghost Arrives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deadpool is in the museum. He meets a ghost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {} yellow  
> [] white  
> (Whom hardly appear in this chapter). 
> 
> Short one.

Deadpool stepped forwards, one foot after the other.

His footsteps made clear noises and echoed off the walls. The hall was large, and one could hear every movement inside. The floor was comprised of white tiles that were slippery and smooth, and like that which one would expect to find in a kitchen. It reflected the light from the skylight, highlighting each large square tile with white and making the surface appear glossy. The hall was full of glass displays and large statues of sea creatures. Some existing and others extinct. The walls on the far end were patterned with blue waves, barely visible in the dark, as was the ceiling. There were many doors, but the locked door which Deadpool targeted was short and navy blue, attached to an out jut in the wall. It had the words ‘keep out, staff only’ painted across in white writing.

Deadpool made clicking noises with his tongue as he walked.

“Well, this is easy.”

He stopped to look at a display of a nautilus. Leaning over and pressing his face against the glass. “Wow, look at this thing, it looks like my grandma’s bladder stones.”

As he breathes onto the glass it starts to steam up. He vigorously wipes the vapour off it, in the process of doing so he notices the display label above the nautilus. Which he reads aloud. “Eats anything it smells…”

A disembodied voice chuckled from somewhere above. “Sounds like you.”

Deadpool jumped backwards, catching himself before he fell over. He looked up but there was nothing there.

“Er… Hello?” His voice cracked.

The voice echoed throughout the large hall with an irrelevant reply “Ooooooooo.”

 “White? Yellow? Was that you?” Deadpool whispered hoarsely.

[No. For once it was not.]

{Nope.}

“Halloooo? Bonjour? Hola? I promise I won’t kill you if you come out- uh I mean, I’ve got… money. I’m sure you like money. Everyone likes money.” He called out quietly. But there was no answer this time.

“What the fuck. Am I imagining more voices now? Why didn’t I just take my meds this morning.” He hissed.

Deadpool continued cautiously, looking skywards and all around as he forgot the displays. He held the map in front of him and started quickly towards the locked door.

There was the distance sound of feet slipping and Deadpool whipped his head sideways just in time to catch sight of an eerie black silhouette jumping along the displays hanging from the ceiling. His night vision goggles may have been able to distinguish shapes and light in the dark, but it was not good for much else.

He looked back to the map in his hands. It was gone.

“What!!” He screeched.

He looked around his feet, seeing if perhaps he dropped it. But it was nowhere to be seen. “Alright, what the shit is going on. Is- Is this karma finally catching up? Is this place haunted? Did a ghost take it? Whatever I don’t need that map anyway I-“

“I like your drawing. It’s very artistic. Are these red dots meant to be the burglar alarms?” The voice echoed smugly.

Deadpool scratched his head, unsure of what to do. “Yeah.” He said dumbly.

“So, you’re breaking in to that locked room, which you’ve marked with a very big X? With... A red crayon.”

“Hey! I don’t know who- or what- you are, but I need that map back. I’ve got important things to do. You stole it!”

“Funny. Isn’t that what you’re planning to do? And this is borrowing, because I’m actually giving it back.”

“Nice lie! Well you don't wanna know where the red crayon I used has been!”

“What are you trying to steal?” The voice said with a note of impatience.

“I’m not trying to steal. I’m trying to find the lavatory.”

The map floated back down through the air slowly, and Deadpool ran to catch it.

He unfolded the map, on it was a large rough drawing of Deadpool in black and white with a speech bubble saying, ‘I’m stupid’.

{Haha! That’s him.}

[Accurate.]

“Har, har. I’ll give you points, this is pretty good. But I’m not hanging it on the fridge. Who are you?”

“A ghost.”

“Like- Casper? Or the ‘Ghost’ ghost? Or you mean you’re The Gay Ghost? Hah, great name.”

“No- I’m—I’m just a ghost. A dead spirit.”

“Ooo! Creepy.”

“Yes. And I’ll keep haunting you if you don’t tell me what you’re trying to steal from here.”

“Kay. First off: don’t care, and not telling. Secondly: I’m a lonely man so I’d be happy if you kept haunting me. And thirdly: you haveta admit that Gay Ghost guy had a _name_. If Iceman had a name like that then the fanboys would’ve eaten up his new series.”

“Wait, Bobby is gay?”

“Yeah dude, where the f have you been? He’s been telling everybody. Putting posters up and wearing a tighter leotard. It’s gotten to the point where people have been getting a bit fed up now. Personally, he’s a bit too cold for me, and it seems like it would hurt. I mean imagine putting an ice-lolly up your ass. Your asshole would just close up before you could even try.”

“Uhm... Gee. I’m not going to ask. But I’m pretty sure he’d give you the cold shoulder anyway.”

“Heh! Cold shoulder! I like you. So, how do you know who Iceman is?”

“O-Oh I—” There was a large crash as the mysterious ghost lost his balance on a display and hit the floor heavily. The figure was still for a few moments but then cautiously got up. Deadpool looked towards the noise and saw two large glowing white eyes at the far side of the room.

“You seem familiar… Do we know each other? Now that I think about it your voice, sounds like-”

Deadpool was bathed in a red light. He turned to look at the wall behind him and sure enough there was the symbol of spider-man shining from the spider-torch in Peter’s belt. Peter whom was the ghost.

Deadpool clapped excitedly. “SPIDEY!” Checking the map to make sure not to trip the alarms, he hopped over towards Spider-man.

“That’s right. I guess you figured me out. Ah- Take it easy.” Spider-man berated as Deadpool crushed him into an overly enthusiastic hug. The two were almost invisible in the dark room, save for their two pairs of white eyes and the backlit red glow of Spider-man’s torch which he turned off.

Deadpool’s words streamed quickly and unevenly “You’re way better than a ghost! And you’re material, and huggable. I can’t believe you tried to scare me like that. I wasn’t scared though, not once. Well maybe a little bit of the ice-lolly thing.”

Spider-man held Deadpool at an arm’s length, staring at him sternly. “What are you trying to steal, Wade?”

Deadpool clenched his jaw. He realised that he would again be at odds with the hero whose job was to prevent law-breaking.

 

 

 


	3. Wrecking A Museum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade and Peter argue like schoolkids and wreck the museum in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What you can expect:  
> cheesy dialogue and bad writing.  
> Wade obsessing over creme fraiche.
> 
> ________________________________________

Wade was silent for a moment. He considered his options. If he told the web-slinger the truth, then there was no doubt he would try to stop him. That left the option of lying, yet there did not seem to be any convincing lie that would save the mercenary from being apprehended. That left 2 options, surrender, or fight.

{Why not both?}

[Or we could just tell him the truth. And then do both.]

{Or we could tell the truth and then trick him.}

“Good idea.” Wade said aloud.

Peter stared at him with greater intensity. “Don’t you dare think of making any plans with your voices.”

“I’m not. I said good idea. As in ‘wow good idea, Webs, I’ll just tell you’. Or better yet; I’ll show you! Come on, you’ll love this, I know how much of a science nerd you are.”

“Is this something dangerous and questionable, that requires my attention? Or is this just some stupid joke you’re going to make?”

 “Definitely dangerous, and definitely questionable.” Wade chimed as he pulled out his map again and started towards the door.

“I knew that much already, soon as I saw you were here.” Spider-man held Deadpool back by the hem of his suit. “This isn’t a game. I can’t let anyone get hurt by whatever this is or whatever you plan to do with it.”

Wade had always admired Spider-man’s nobility. Like him, the webslinger was experienced and tremendously good at his job. But what Spider-man did wasn’t a job, it was a hobby, a choice. Saving people, loving everyone unconditionally, believing the bad could change, that they deserved second chances. The webslinger was tough, punishing, but incapable of damning anyone to a permanent death. And because of that he was something that Deadpool could never be, because Deadpool believed that bad people were better off dead. Wade thought Spider-man was naïve, but he admired the man for his unwavering virtues. He really, really, really did. Spidey was the crème fraiche on a salad, the only part worth eating. Without that bit the salad was gross and dry. But with that crème fraiche everything was sweet, and kind of sour. {Totes amaymay}. And it made Wade actually want to eat uncooked vegetables. Crème fraiche was perfect with everything, there was nothing that it could not make better. Crème fraiche was-

CRASHHHH. Deadpool jolted back to reality.

Spider-man stood in the doorway he had just kicked open.

The door that Deadpool had been here to open.

“Well shit.” He swore.

[How do we lock him in the room now?]

{Uhhh. So that was our plan? Well… buy a new door?}

The room behind the door was small, and the ceiling was very low. Dust swirled around and rose into the air, emanating from the door. Spider-man reached up to pull at a cord hanging on the celling. A naked bulb above him flickered to life and lit the room a musty yellow.

“So… This is what you want.”

On a stone table at the end of the room there lie the tiny silver gun. It looked alien and not like a gun at all, a tube with shining attachments. Smoking and glowing blue.

Peter took the Chitauri cannon in his hands. “This- What is it? A gun?” He turned it over and felt the ridges carefully between his fingers.

Deadpool leaned against the door frame and coughed unimpressively. “That’s a chitauri hand cannon. Fancy name, but yeah it’s- a gun.”

Spider-man prickled “So you want to kill someone with this?”. His hands shook. “Why, why go through all the effort when you already have so many guns?”

Deadpool slouched. He couldn’t tell his friend the truth. So, lies it was. “I need it to kill Madcap. He regenerates, this can stop that.” He knew the webslinger would incriminate him, but this was the only believable excuse he could think of.

“Who? Listen Wade, I don’t care who Madcap is but you’re not killing anyone on my watch. I don’t care what they’ve done. Not with this thing. And not in this city. You shouldn’t have come here and tried this.”

Spider-man took the gun between his two hands. Fingers bending the gun, testing how much strength was needed to break it. The fragile gun whined and cracked beneath the pressure.

“This thing is unsafe-” Spider-man trailed off.

His spider-sense screeched. He jerked himself sideways, but too late.

He struggled as an arm was locked around his neck but ceased when he felt the barrel of a gun press into the side of his skull.

 “Don’t.” Wade said. His voice shallow, devoid of all its cheer and strength.

Peter was silent. He never thought that he truly trusted Deadpool, after all only a fool would trust a mercenary, right? But then he had never expected this. He felt betrayed. So maybe he did trust the man… Everyone said that Deadpool was unpredictable, crazy, annoying, and merciless. But somehow Peter didn’t mind it all, somehow Wade had become his friend. It was unlike Wade to threaten him at gunpoint, that meant he had to be very desperate to get this odd gun. It was suspicious.

“You don’t really mean it.” Peter rasped. But his spider-sense unnerved him as it still rang in his ears. He tried to comfort his nerves. “If this is meant to be a hug then it’s a very bad one.” He joked quietly.

Deadpool didn’t speak. He just stood. His face was blank. Spider-man could not read the other man at all. He had no idea what he was thinking. But it frightened him to see the usually expressive man so void of anything.

He knew he had to think fast. Think, Parker, think. Peter hadn’t moonlighted as spider-man whilst still majoring in bio-chem for nothing. He was good at thinking on the spot and under pressure.

“Fine. You can have it.” he passed the cannon over his shoulder, whence it was snatched away.

The pistol was removed from Peter’s head and the mercenary made off out of the room silently. He seemed completely unaware of anything other than the cannon in his hands.

Peter watched him walk away. He shook his head and walked after him. The only noise in the museum was their footsteps.

“You know, it’s pretty dark in here. I don’t know how you can see anything.”

Deadpool stopped. He looked contemplative.

“NVGs, no, you don’t need Urban Dictionary, it’s ‘night vision goggles’.”

“Go on…” Spider-man goaded the other man to tell him more. It worked, Deadpool seemed to revert to his usual self, excited by the attention.

“I got them off eBay. Top of the range.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, they’re Like, superrrrr expensive and high tech. I only sold my liver for them. Pretty good right? I think they look cool. And I can see everything in here. They even self-dimmed when you turned on your torch.”

“Did they? NVGs, those work by absorbing and amplifying the light that you can see… The light photons enter the goggles, striking the surface of the photocathode and are converted to electrons. Those electrons are then amplified by a photomultiplier. One will enter to hit the dynode and release another electron from it. Which results in far more electrons leaving by being pulled towards the anode due to their charge. Finally, hitting the phosphor screen to create flashes of light and brighten the image that the eye can see.

That means if one was to stimulate the goggles with too many photons then they would amplify to a point where what the user saw was just…" He trailed off in an epiphany.

“Are…are…you… flirting with me, Spidey? I didn’t understand a word of that, but it sounded fucking intelligent.”

THWIP. Spider-man shot a line of web and hit a switch on the side of the wall.

All the lights in the museum blared to life. The white light glared onto the tiles and against the walls and reflecting off the glassy windows and numerous mirrors. The light was so intense that even spider-man had to shield his eyes for a moment to adjust.

“AGH!! MY EYES!!! IT HURTS! I’M BLIND!” Deadpool shouted dumbly. He patted his face and waved his arms around in panic. “IT’S ALL WHITE, IS THIS A FADING TRANSITION?” He continued shouting and ran around feeling whatever he could, knocking into things and tripping over.

“Deadpool.” Wade ignored Peter and continued with his frantic episode.

“DEADPOOL! You massive idiot, it’s the goggles! Weren’t you listening to me?? I was so clear and obvious. Take off the goggles before you break something. This is stupid, you’re not acting like you were meant to! Why don’t you act like I planned you would!”

“You can’t tell me what to do! What’re you, my mom?”

Deadpool tried pulling the goggles down and off but to little avail. Peter jumped onto his back and tugged the goggles upwards with effort. The goggles took so much strain between Wade tugging this way and Peter tugging the other way that they were catapulted across the museum and crashed into the whale display with a small explosion and a resounding BOOM.

Glass and electrical components flew in every direction and the two men ducked in bewilderment as debris twirled over their heads.

The whale display the goggles had crashed into started to rock dangerously. And suddenly the cords which it was attached to snapped and the display came crashing down.

Peter grabbed Wade and threw them both out of the way. They rolled to safety as the whale smashed a hole into the floor. Sending up a mountain of dust and broken tiles, which spun and slipped across the floor. Finally, to top it all off, the alarms sounded with an ear-splitting wail. But after all the destruction before them, they sounded like a sweet lullaby. They continued for a few minutes until switching off.

Spider-man looked over to Deadpool. He had goggle imprints over his mask and he looked positively ridiculous and utterly shocked. Peter smacked his face before getting up. He put his head into his hands trying to take in all that had just happened.

Deadpool smiled widely. “That. Was. Awesome! Goddamn. Free Willy just made his jump for freedom and he failed, he smashed into the frickin’ floor! I’m not even mad about losing those goggles, seeing that party we just raised we made their loss feel like nothing. I won’t even mourn, that was the send-off.”

“Really, Wade? I hate you, you don’t take anything seriously. We just destroyed this museum! We destroyed it! I’m supposed to be a hero, I—awww forget it. What’s the use anyway.” Peter dusted himself off. Subtly patting the concealed pocket in his suit to make sure the chitauri gun was there.

“We need to- Oh, hi officers… There’s-- been a mistake.” Peter said weakly. Circled around the duo was a huge ensemble of police officers. All guns trained towards the pair. Wade clapped obnoxiously into the silence like this was the best comedic entertainment he had ever witnessed in his life.


	4. The Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surrounded by police officers and obviously guilty of mass destruction of the museum, what will Peter and Wade do? How will they escape?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What you can expect:  
> guns.  
> dialogue.
> 
> I've got nothing else to add.
> 
> Oh yeah the police ended up turning out like super villains for some reason, sorry for that...
> 
> \------------------------------

 

“Shut up, Wade. I’m trying to concentrate.” Spider-man scolded, rubbing his temples.

Deadpool exhaled dramatically but he obeyed and ceased clapping.

“Officers, I assure you that we’re on your side. There’s been a big mistake. So lower your pop-guns because they won’t be any use anyway and let me explain. There was a… ah- a burglar. We saw him break in and we were trying to stop him. But he-”

“Don’t worry Webs, I’ve got this.” Deadpool spoke loudly over the webslinger. Drawing out each word to make the statement seem grand and assured.

He started to get up off the floor but as he did all the guns were trained on him.

“Don’t move. Or we shoot.”

“Sensitive much? I’m not gonna sit on the floor like a pre-schooler listening to story time. That makes me feel hella awkward… and…sniff… inferior. I may have dropped out of high school, though I did complete preschool. Look, what I’m sayin’ is; I’m still smart, I get science. Anyway…”

Deadpool dropped his hands down to his waist and then slowly moved them upwards, dragging them over as much of his body as possible in a way that could have been described as seductive but was ineffective to seduce all present. The police officers looked at Deadpool as though he had grown a second head.

He fluttered his eyelids. “You wouldn’t hurt a lady, would you?” He asked coyly, putting his index finger to his lips and bending one leg. “I have much to offer.”

Peter slapped a hand over his own face. It was an automatic reaction, he was used to seeing Wade perform this kind of buffoonery. He had no idea what he thought the result would be or why it occurred to him that it could possibly have been sensible.

“Dark Spider-man cease that at once or we will be forced to shoot.”

Deadpool frowned. “Dark Spider-man? What are you, racist? Hello? He’s Spider-man. I’m Deadpool! Merc with the mouth. Regenerating degenerate. Ring any bells? I’m famous. I have my own comic books. My own merch. I even have a movie.” He gestured wildly.

All the officers looked towards one. A large burly man with a hard cap and a white woven badge on his chest. His face was stern and betrayed no emotion, his eyes were narrow and hard. He was evidently the leader of the squad. They waited for his command.

He spoke deeply. “That’s enough. We can discuss this in a safe room. You’re both under arrest.”

He continued. “Spider-man is a dangerous super criminal with a reward for capture. He is the main priority. We apprehend him first and then the other-”

Deadpool bubbled up furiously. “Shut your fucking mouth. Spidey ain’t no criminal. He won’t even let me leave lollipop wrappers on the floor without telling me to pick them up. I did all of this. Let him go.”   

“You have no right to decide. Put your hands up and submit or we will shoot.”

Peter was worried. If he was arrested, then they would surely take off his mask and compromise his secret identity. He had to protect his loved ones that were associated with his civilian identity and could not let that happen. Additionally, it would cause trouble for Wade, he had no idea of what would happen to the mercenary and he was sure the man had no alibi.

“I won’t do nuthin’ your fat chin says, Bluto!” Deadpool thundered.

“It’s alright, Wade. We can do this.” Peter said. He took Wade’s hand, coaxing him to lift his hands into the air with him.

Spider-man was wearing a mask but Deadpool was sure he could see a twinkle in his eye. He read that in a book once. He recognised the stance and the expression, the angle of his lenses. To be that which Spider-man would possess just before beating a D class villain that was way out of their depth, and then dishing out a punchline. He nodded to show his understanding. Spidey wanted to fight his way out. And there was no way that he’d say no to a fist fight and a team up with his favourite hero.

The two spandex-clad men stood with their hands in the air. The tension building as nobody moved. The officers inched nervously towards them, handcuffs being pulled out.

Peter looked over at Wade for confirmation. Wade looked confused, but eager. It was good enough.

In one swift movement Peter used his strength to toss Wade into the officers like a bowling ball. Using his arm as leverage.

“Strike!” Peter quipped.

Half of the men tumbled and fell over each other. The rest stepped back in shock and to prevent themselves from also falling over. The move had been wholly unpredictable.

“I think that score warrants a prize.”

They started to shoot, the bullets flying everywhere and imbedding themselves in the walls. Peter quickly webbed himself a shield to bounce them away. He used his webs to disarm each of the officers, pulling their guns towards himself and whipping the web line to smash them on the floor. He started forwards and used a similar technique to combat the officers one by one. He held back on his power so he did not seriously injure any of them.

“Sheesh. You guys should get a better hobby. Guns are expensive, and you can’t make anything back with them.”

“I dare to disagree Spidey, I’m loaded for life because of guns.”

“Then why can’t you afford deodorant?”

Wade wrestled on the floor with two men, they shot at him, but the bullets did not phase him. He cracked his fist into one officer’s jaw, knocking her out cold. Then elbowed another and rammed his knee into their stomach. Pulling a roll of duct tape out from his pouches he wound their wrists together.

He lowered his head and whispered to the unconscious man. “Offering some advice: those lollipop pictures you see on Deviantart, don’t work. It doesn’t transfer to real life. Believe me, I’ve tried, no one finds it sexy except me. It makes me feel real stupid when I’m slurping and he’s not even looking.”

Deadpool limbered up. There were around 7 bullet holes over his body, each dripping with blood, but he could hardly feel any pain because of the adrenaline coursing through him, and because of his constant exposure to injuries he had become adjusted to such pain. But it still hurt.

Spider-man regrouped with him and covered him with his shield.

“Are you okay?”

“Peachy. It’s just 2 bullets in my head, 4 in my chest, and one on my shoulder. The usual order.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do... Let’s get out of here. Climb onto my back.”

As the pair looked up towards the broken skylight, Peter’s spider sense trembled.

He stepped back just in time so that the fat fist of the lead officer whizzed past him.

“You’re not going anywhere. You supers think you’re so special. Think you can just wreck the city for fun and leave it like that without consequence. I hate you.”

Spider-man placated. “Listen, we don’t want to do any more damage. Please just turn a blind eye today and let us go before you get hurt. I’ll pay for the damage. I promise.”

Peter didn’t have much money but what the officer said was right. This was his mess and he would have to make it up somehow. Although for now it was best to get to safety as no one looked willing to cooperate.

“I’ll get hurt? You’ve got it all wrong, freak. You’re the one who’s going to get hurt!”

There was the crack of a gunshot.

Peter dived out of the way, however, not accurately enough. The bullet hit his thigh. He fell to the ground. The pain was immediate and devastating; it felt like thousands of needles were being forced in and out of his skin. Tissue and muscle being torn, nerves splitting at their ends. He was lucky that no bones were shattered. He cried out in pain, then biting on his lip until it bled. It hurt, but he thought it was pathetic of him to complain. After all; Deadpool had 7 bullet wounds and he was crying over only one. He steeled himself, willing himself to forget about the pain.

“PIECE OF SHIT!” Wade shouted, drawing a katana from his back. “You’re gonna die for that!”

He stormed his way over towards the man. Ignoring every bullet fired into him. The officer reeled in fright and tried to frantically reload his gun. Though this only gave Wade the time he needed to close in. He grabbed the man by the throat, choking him with one hand and pressing his katana into his throat with the other.

“Wade, stop! Leave him alone. Don’t kill anyone. It’s fine. This is fine, I get shot every other week. I’m more worried about getting you that deodorant... Come on.”

Deadpool threw the officer away from himself, who breathed heavily and scrambled backwards across the floor in terror.

“You’re- you’re not normal! You’re a monster.”

Wade ignored him and returned to Peter’s side. By this time both of their suits had been heavily torn, and both were bruised and bleeding. Peter felt tired. But he had to get them both out of here before this escalated.

Wade helped his friend stand, offering himself as a support. “You look like shit. Are you sure you don’t want me to carry you through the backdoors?”

“Enough with the innuendo already.”

Wade chuckled.

“No, there’ll be more outside.” Peter nodded towards the floored officers. “They’ve got radios; probably called for backup. Get on my back, we’ll web sling out of here.”

Deadpool whined in protest. “Spidey, you can barely stand. You need a doctor, not my fat ass weighing you down. I can make my own way out.”

“No.”

“Night Nurse?”

“Get on my back Wade, or so help me I will web you to it.”

Wade shook his head. Peter seethed in frustration and decided instead to grab Wade with his arms carry him that way. He pointed his hand towards the skylight and shot out a web line. And with that the duo was gone.

The only traces of their arrival were the masses of destruction they had left.


End file.
